I know that this is a blog about parenting, but part of parenting is learning to practice patience; to learn to breathe deep and plaster a smile on your face.  To maintain control in your own aspects of life so that when you explain why it’s not OK for your 5 year old to tell his best friend that he hated him after being pelted with mulch for two minutes. You can feel pious and righteous knowing that if you were in a similar situation you would have calmly assessed and walked away as well, instead of returning handfuls of mulch or screaming diatribes at your little friend.

When I walked into work the other day I had no idea what I was in for.  A simple luncheon for 40 ladies; soup, chicken salad, sorbet- that sort of event. Coffee, tea, me - you know the deal, except the me part really is no joke; some customers would have your soul if you let ‘em.  The minute they walked in the room I smelled danger. 

“Young man?”

“Hi,” I responded.  Yes, I’m neither a man nor young but I am your waitress and you’re not even seated yet so what could you possibly need.

Turns out they needed extra seats as they brought along a few extra bodies.  No biggie right?  WRONG!

Anyone in banquet dining knows that a few more is the kiss of death.  Everything has been pre-set; basically an average of 16 items lovingly arranged by little old me who was there 20 minutes early to make sure the job was done right. Squeezing in 16 pieces of anything at a table set for eight is next to impossible, uncomfortable for all seated and a general pain in the you know where

There’s the matching sorbet spoon, which is different from the soup spoon, coffee spoon or regular spoon. And then there’s three different glasses if you include coffee, which includes sugar spoon and under plate. Then there’s lemon slices for tea and different lemon slices for the water, not to mention bread plate, butter and specially folded napkin.

Big time trouble. 

We hadn’t even served the beet soup and I was sweating already.  Sniff, sniff - smelling trouble again. Who pre-orders beet soup?

So 43 old ladies shuffle around, arrange walkers and purses as big as overnight bags possibly carrying small animals directly in my walking path and sit down to stare at me expectantly with a “where’s our soup” look.

In the kitchen getting cold while I search for the next place setting, if you want the God’s honest truth. 

My ladies and I got through that luncheon, but I felt like I’d been through a couple rounds before all was said and done, and my smile like an evil grimace never left my face nor did an unkind word leave my lips.

My patience served them well just as it does me when like an old trick I pull it out of my pocket when Donovan asks me for the 600th time if I just mind if he just goes upstairs and just changes his shirt maybe just one more time. And the socks aren’t really working either.  I draw a deep breath and head up to his room. 

It has been through so many wardrobe changes that perhaps he hosted fashion week while I slept.

Patience, Rebecca, patience whether it is with beet soup eaters or the fickle fashion consciousness of a 5 year old.

Breathing deep and practicing patience.